


Personal Aide to the Presdient

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-03
Updated: 2001-02-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so far.





	Personal Aide to the Presdient

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

 

RATING: G  
NOTES: New series. See Part One.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the West Wing or any of its related   
characters. Don't sue.   
SUMMARY: Different people of the West Wing reflect on their lives so   
far.

I work long days. This is what people tell me. I come to   
work, assist the President, and then come home to my little sister.   
That's if I'm lucky. Deena says I work long days, that I rarely seem   
to come home any more. She says that it's okay, she can take care of   
herself, but that she misses me. I miss her too. I think she's just   
worried about me. We take care of each other like that. We have to.  
The President is quiet today. I think he's in one of those   
moods where he starts thinking about everything. He gets quiet in   
that mood until you ask him a question, pretty much any question, and   
then he gets excited and energetic while answering it. He fluctuates   
a lot like that.   
When I look at myself in the mirror, I try to find some   
definition for what I see. Some days, I can and some I can't. It   
seems I never use the same words more than once. Personal Aide to the   
President. Zoey's boyfriend. Deena's big brother. Orphan. The man   
they tried to shoot and kill...  
It's scary in more ways than one. It's scary that someone   
would kill me. Because I'm dating the President's daughter, because   
I'm black, or is it both? It's both, I know. A year ago, I could   
never have known. I would have never realized what the future held.   
I work in the White House, directly for the President. Three   
people were shot and more were injured because of me; because I work   
in the White House directly for the President, I date his daughter   
and I'm black. The more I think about it, the more I have to convince   
myself that it's not my fault.  
It's not my fault.  
I'm trying to figure out how I got this far. I'm nearly twenty-  
two years old and I work in the White house as the Personal Aide to   
the President of the United States.   
I can never get over that. Personal Aide to the President.  
My father left a long time ago. He left before he could know   
what the future held. My mother took care of us, and she was so   
great. I miss her all the time, but I do my best not to think about   
it. I'm happy with my life, you know? I miss my mom, but I have Deena   
and I have Zoey and the staff here is like family.  
Zoey. I love her. We've come so far together. I think the   
shooting pushed us apart at first and then the aftermath brought us   
closer together than ever before. She's the first person I have ever   
met who I could honestly see myself spending the rest of my life   
with. It's just too early in my life to make a move like that. When   
Deena graduates, I'll go back to college and get my degree, and I'll   
make something more of myself.   
For now, I'm content with being Deena's big brother, Zoey's   
boyfriend and Personal Aide to the President.   
I've gotten used to long days. I've also gotten used to feeling   
like I make a difference. I had never actually felt like I made a   
difference until I got this job. I know I made a difference to my   
family and I suppose I always will for Deena, but this job has made   
me feel like I'm making a difference to the world. It reminds me of   
something Josh told me once:   
It never goes away.  
Thinking of Josh makes me wonder about these people who are so   
good to me. From the moment I got here, these people have treated me   
as an equal, a friend, a member of their family. The President is so   
kind and understanding with me. Leo, CJ, Sam, Toby, Mrs.   
Landingham... They all treat me with a kind of respect I've never   
known before. To them, I've got to be a kid who they send around to   
run errands, and yet there's still that respect.   
I forgot to mention Josh.   
The man is like a brother to me. We always talk and trade   
thoughts and ideas. He's the one got me hired. He's the one who   
checks up on me, talks to me, encourages me... he's the one who   
nearly died because of me.  
Say it again, Charlie: It's not your fault.  
So how did I get this far? I truly wish someone could give me an   
answer to that question. I used to wonder if they only gave me this   
job because they felt sorry for me, because of what happened to my   
mother. That went away fast. Now I think that somewhere in the midst   
of things, God decided to give me a bigger family and here I am.   
I get paid to be part of a family.  
Growing up, I wanted to be something important. I thought   
maybe a doctor or a lawyer or an officer like my mother. The White   
House never really entered my mind. When I got older, politics   
interested me, but more as a hobby, and never as a career venue.   
After working here, I can honestly say the politics is the way for me   
to go.   
Seeing Ken Cochran swallow his foot was one hell of an   
encouragement. Those are one of the perks of politics, right?  
I realize that there are down sides too. Being lied to,   
pushed around... shot at...  
But like Andrew told me, if they're shooting at you, it means   
you're doing something right. I want to spend my life doing what's   
right.  
Even if that means being shot at... Again.  
It feels like so much has happened in the past twenty years,   
like my life should be half over by now. Sometimes it's hard to   
believe that there's so much of my life left to live. Now that I have   
some idea of what I want to do with it, I wonder if things will go   
more smoothly.  
I don't think so either.   
When I was little, I never thought of giving my life a focus.   
When I was halfway through high school, I thought I knew for sure how   
the rest of my life would turn out. Then my mother was shot and   
killed. Everything changed. No surprise there.   
The President's complaining about his breakfast again. He's   
saying some thing about horses, but I guess I'm not really compelled   
to pay attention. It's gotten to the point where I sort of tune out   
his food babble and inject an occasional "yes, sir" or "no, sir" when   
he looks at me. I pay attention only enough to know when to say   
the "yes, sir" or when to say the "no, sir" or finally, when he slows   
down, "Sir, we have to get started." When I say that, I not only get   
his complete attention, but he gets mine.  
We have a system. It works.   
Hopefully today will be another short day, like yesterday. I   
actually got home yesterday. Deena and I watched some TV show where   
there were this group of kids and they were all running from   
something or trying to find something, or both. It felt like a soap   
opera to me, but Deena assured me that there were distinct   
differences. She says it's her favorite show. I'm still trying to   
figure out why the main male character and the main female character,   
who are obviously in love with each other "can't" be together. Deena   
says that it's because the guy is some sort of alien.   
So maybe that's what's wrong with Josh.  
Anyway, TV isn't really my thing. Deena and I talked a little   
during commercials and after the show was over. It was nice catching   
up with her. I so rarely get to do that any more. I feel like her   
life is passing me by. Maybe I can talk to the President about   
finding a way to keep being able to get home before nine. Maybe once   
a week or something.   
Mondays, perhaps, so Deena and I can watch the aliens.  
The day's getting started. Time for me to take the President's   
mind off of breakfast. I can see the look on his face and I know what   
it means. I've seen that look on every face at one time or another,   
but I always see it on his when I tell him that the day has to start.   
It's the face that says "please don't let me do anything wrong   
today."   
I've seen it on myself many times when I look into that mirror.   
I saw it the morning of the day we went to Rosslyn.  
The day is starting so I had better get going. The President   
asks:  
"What's next?"

*************

  


End file.
